


Honey-Sweet

by gracerene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Blow Jobs, Community: daily_deviant, Daily Deviant's Banging Birthday Fest 2020, Dirty Talk, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Praise Kink, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: Harry is often unsure of himself as an adult. He lives the life he's expected to and is a sought-after bachelor but there's something missing, and he's willing to pay for it.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 26
Kudos: 300
Collections: Daily Deviant





	Honey-Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> Written for 2020 [Daily Deviant Banging Birthday Fest](https://daily-deviant.dreamwidth.org/26796.html).
> 
> I hope you enjoy, dear prompter! Lots of love to my beta, shiftylinguini, and the mods.

Sunday nights were Harry's favourite part of the week.

Sometimes it felt like Harry suffered through the rest of his life just so he could finally get his Sunday evening reward. Not that he could have admitted that to anybody but himself without sounding ungrateful and perhaps a bit fucked in the head. He was Harry Potter, for Merlin's sake! He worked as one of the Ministry's top Aurors, a job he genuinely enjoyed; he had an amazing and supportive group of friends; his inheritance from both Sirius and his parents meant that he never had to worry about money, and even though he was still single (tragically so, according to _Witch Weekly_ ) he was also considered one of Great Britain's most eligible bachelors and never wanted for company. His life was good, great really, and he was content, even if sometimes he felt like he was floundering.

Because the truth was that for all of his life's apparent shine, Harry didn't have a clue what he was doing. He projected calm and confidence because that was what was expected of him, but inside he felt like a complete mess. It wasn't that he wasn't more or less happy, but most days it felt like his life had just sort of happened to him, falling into his lap with relative ease instead of something he'd actively sought out. All too often he got caught up in his head, his mind spinning and racing out of control as he wondered how long he could keep it all up before everybody saw past his façade and realised he didn't have any more of a clue what he was doing than the rest of them, that their Saviour was a fraud. There was only one thing that ever helped settle him after a week of pressure building up inside his head, and Harry didn't mind paying to ensure he got it.

It wasn't the sort of thing Harry could trust his dates with, those casual witches and wizards who clamoured for a chance to date The Boy Who Lived. It was difficult to tell which of them were genuinely interested in Harry and which were more interested in his fame. And even the former tended to have their preconceived notions about what Harry should be like, how he should act, and what he should want in bed. After the third tell-all exposé in the _Prophet_ by a former paramour, Harry had resolved to play things a little closer to the chest.

And then Draco Malfoy had come back into his life.

He'd been aware of Malfoy, of course, who had lost no time after the war in working to restore his name and fortune. He worked in finance, or business, or something else equally dull where he got to wear expensive robes and boss people around and talk about things like investments and profit margins. Apparently he had his fingers in a lot of pies—he always had liked sweets—one of which was an exclusive club where one could go to have certain needs taken care of if they had the Galleons for it. 

Allegedly. 

Harry had been one of the Aurors sent to check out said club, which was majority owned by Pansy Parkinson—suspicious enough in its own right. Malfoy had been there, apparently for some kind of investment meeting, though there'd been implications that he was feeling nostalgic for the days when he'd worked the floor as a… bartender. 

They'd investigated every nook and cranny of the club but hadn't found any evidence of law-breaking, not that Harry had thought they would—Parkinson and Malfoy would certainly be smart enough to cover their tracks. Malfoy had followed him around the entire time, needling Harry and making filthy innuendos, clearly hoping to get a rise out of him. 

He did, but maybe not the kind he'd expected.

Harry had spent several very uncomfortable hours searching the club with a rock-hard erection, mortified and turned-on beyond belief. All he'd wanted was to go home and have a nice, long wank, so when Malfoy had thrown out his final, insincere taunt, offering to fuck the tension out of Harry for the right price, Harry had called his bluff and asked how much. Malfoy had tried to cover his shock by naming a ridiculously obscene amount, though he was unable to cover it a second time when Harry agreed and told him to name the time and place. But Malfoy wasn't one to back down any more than Harry was, and when Harry had met up with him that Sunday, Malfoy had damn well earned every single one of Harry's Galleons.

That was six months ago, and Harry had seen Malfoy every Sunday since.

"Hello, Harry," Draco said when Harry walked through the hotel room door at eight o'clock sharp. He was lounging on a sofa chair, one leg folded over the other as he scribbled into the black leather notebook on his lap. He was dressed smartly in his perfectly tailored robes, all sleek, dark lines and shiny silver buttons. He looked delicious. And expensive.

"Draco," Harry said as he moved closer to stand by his chair. "How was your week?"

"Long," Draco replied, closing his notebook with a _thwap_ and tossing it onto the side table as he uncrossed his legs and spread them wide. "But I know something that will make it all better."

Harry grinned. "And what would that be?"

"You, kneeling between my legs, putting that fabulous mouth of yours to good use."

A pleasant little shiver skittered down Harry's spine as he went to his knees at Draco's feet. He reached out, working open the buttons to Draco's robes with practiced ease.

"Fabulous?" Harry asked as he parted Draco's robes, revealing his hardening cock, so pink and thick and perfect.

"Mmm." Draco hummed as Harry grabbed hold of Draco's prick and rubbed the head against his lips. "Quit fishing for compliments and suck me. You know how good you are at giving head."

"But I _like_ your compliments," Harry said, looking up at Draco from beneath his lashes while mouthing at the head of Draco's cock. He knew what a filthy picture he must have made, and Draco's appreciative groan did not disappoint. 

"You'll get even more of them if you give me something to actually compliment you _on_ ," Draco replied, his voice breathy as he ran his fingers through Harry's hair, gently encouraging him forward. Harry grinned but opened his mouth wide, done teasing Draco… for now.

Harry loved making his partners feel good, and he had a particular fondness for giving head. Reducing his lovers to a quivering mess never failed to get him going, but hearing them say how good he made them feel, how talented he was with his mouth… that was the real rush.

He sucked Draco down, relaxing his throat to take Draco in as deep as he could. Draco's hands twitched in Harry's hair and he let out a little sigh of contentment as he relaxed back into the sofa chair, letting Harry do all the work.

"Fuck, yes, just like that," Draco said, his normally smooth, posh voice even sexier when it was rough with lust. "Such a perfect little cocksucker. You always know just how I like it, don't you? Merlin, I love how much you want my dick. Nobody else takes it as good as you do."

Harry's entire body went hot, lighting up from the inside out. His cock throbbed in his trousers, but he didnt pay it any mind, too focused on swallowing Draco's cock and chasing more of his honeyed words. _This_ was what he came here for every week. Not the cock-sucking—though he was quite fond of that as well—but to bathe in Draco's praise. 

He might have been paying to hear it, but it didn't make it any less true, and that wasn't naïveté talking, it was fact. That was why it had to be Draco, why this arrangement never would have worked with anybody else. Harry understood Draco well enough to know when he was faking it, and Draco hadn't ever been able to mask his true feelings for long, not around Harry. There was a time where Harry would have said that you couldn't have paid Draco to give Harry a compliment. The past six months had proved otherwise, but Draco wasn't a talented enough actor when it came to Harry to merely be humouring him and, frankly, Draco didn't _actually_ need the money. When Draco told Harry he was good, he meant it, and that made every last Galleon Harry spent on these weekly sessions worth it.

"That's it, Harry," Draco breathed, his hips twitching up into Harry's mouth. "I'm so bloody close. Look how quickly you've brought me to the edge. Fuck, your mouth is perfect, so tight and hot and wet."

Harry whined around the cock in his throat, increasing the suction as he ran his tongue along the underside of Draco's shaft. Draco's thighs clenched, and Harry redoubled his efforts, desperate to make Draco come, to watch him fall apart and know that _he_ was responsible for it.

"Fuck, _fuck_ ," Draco moaned, and then he was coming, flooding Harry's mouth with his release as he collapsed bonelessly back into the sofa chair.

Harry stayed on his knees, licking Draco clean while they both caught their breath. His own cock was still rock hard in his trousers, but he wasn't in any rush. They had all night, after all.

"Salazar," Draco said with feeling after several long moments, his voice rich with satisfaction. He reached down and ran a thumb along Harry's cheekbone before ghosting it across his lips. "That was brilliant. _You_ were brilliant. You made me feel so good, Harry."

Harry shuddered, his mouth dropping open and cock twitching as the words washed over him. Draco smiled, lazy and indulgent, and slid his thumb inside Harry's open mouth, pressing down against his tongue.

"Would you like to make me feel even better?"

Harry nodded, licking the salty sweetness from Draco's thumb as Draco's left foot moved between Harry's legs and nudged up against his hard cock. Harry gasped, and Draco all but purred with pleasure.

"Why don't we put this big cock of yours to good use, hmm? It's been far too long since the last time you fucked me and you always do it so well."

Harry's eyes widened and he nodded eagerly, ready and willing to do whatever Draco wanted if only he'd tell Harry how good he was. 

Draco smiled, and his expression was almost fond as he slid his thumb out of Harry's mouth and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Harry's lips. 

"Get undressed and meet me in the bedroom. I want you to take your time tonight."

Harry swallowed and nodded as Draco got up and made his way towards the bedroom, looking surprisingly elegant considering his cock was still hanging out. Harry scrambled to his feet and began tugging off his clothes, taking care to fold and set them neatly on the sofa. He reached into his robe pocket, extracting a small pouch.

He held it in his hands for a brief moment, feeling its heavy weight and listening to the faint clinking of coins before placing it gently atop Draco's notebook where he'd be sure to find it in the morning. Then he turned and walked into the bedroom.

Draco was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> [Kudos ♥] and [Comments] are fabulous! I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://gracerene09.tumblr.com/)!


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